Stimulation
by Adelost
Summary: AU, Simon can draw & stays for longer with Kelly. A little Kelly/Simon. Simon had always been painfully shy, but this girl was just alone, like a little stimulation for him. Couldn't he play too, couldn't he use his talents too? Or was he simply going to let his talents waste away…? Oneshot. Rated T for safety.


**A/N: Warning: Only three characters, slightly OOC.**

**Simon**

"I… I uh… well… I… I b-brought you a beer." I stutter, blinking at the blonde slumped lazily on a chair, my eyes following the girl in his arm. She was dangling some sort of joint from her lips. Her lips, that looked soft and welcoming. Then… then herself, well she was a different story.

She was pretty, with dark brown hair and milky eyes. Already, I felt some sort of attraction to her, instantly rewarded with a pang in my chest. A _warning_ pang. Girls like this were out of reach – too pretty.

My reach only, of course.

_Life is so unfair._

He didn't blink back but instead, his expression was bored as ever, along with the girl to his right. "Ah… about that."

The tone of his voice frightened me, because I felt like I knew what would happen next.

"W-What?" I say, keeping my gaze steady. A pathetic bit of me was pretending everything would be fine, perhaps he wanted to be sober from now on? I sneak a look at him once more, realising there's a bottle of beer in his hand.

Still, my hands and voice shake relentlessly – you can barely see it, but they continue to shake.

"I meant to text a _different_ Simon."

The truth falls onto me, and it's not even trying, of course. "Oh." I say, coldly. My thoughts flash back instantly to the thoughts of murder, homicide.

I placed the beers down on the table, enough to make a loud plonk. Before I shuffle away, I look once more at the brunette. She's got… a look on her face. One I'd seen often: pity.

Settling for her crumbs, her pity, was not something I felt I wanted. I was shuffling through the club, despite the fact that I should've held my head high. I couldn't.

Friends were what helped you hold your head up when you couldn't. Of course, I had no friends at all, therefore, no support.

Something glazed in her eyes, and she seemed to keep contact with me. The look directed at me was powerful, but it wasn't pity anymore. A flash of… empathy had simply entered her, and this happened to me often.

Shoving past people, I realised how much more comfortable I felt outside of the club. It was stuffy and there were plenty of whores in there.

_Not that I'd get any of them, even __**they**__ wouldn't fuck me for all the money in the world._

A few metres ahead, a sign that said 'EXIT' glowed green, inviting me to walk through it – this was the very definition of 'music to my ears,' but rather, music to my eyes.

**xxx**

**Kelly**

"Ugh… I feel like shit."

A tall black man was wrapping his hoodie around me. I'd kiss him, but there was a huge stack of £20 notes in his mouth.

"You'll be fine, Kelly." He says, having removed the money from his mouth. Before I can say thanks, he's already gone.

Didn't matter, he was probably doing drugs with that sort of money.

"Yeah… I'b good, reagoo llood." I try saying, 'I'll be really good,' but it comes out slurred and skewered to the point where I know it's not English.

The world fades into black and white. Soon, the white disappeared completely, and it was just a black background that my eyes couldn't open and see. I was blinded.

Slumped against the floor, my eyes flickered shut, and I seemed to freeze in time, into that moment.

**xxx**

**Simon**

By the time I'd arrived at the stairs, I could see a dead body (which seemed heavily unlikely) or an unconscious girl lying there.

I slowly approach her, firstly observing her chest. Unlike other girls, she wasn't sleeping, her chest stayed flat, not rising, and not dropping.

A _real_ girl, and an unconscious one. It was the _only_ way I'd _ever_ get stimulated, and I was aware of it.

"Are… are you okay?" I say quietly.

_She won't hear me._

I awkwardly shuffle towards her, running a hand down her leg, expecting some sort of reaction from her.

I discreetly lift her skirt, and look up it.

_Wow…_

_ Amazing._

The stimulation I get disappears completely, replaced by a feeling of… this thing in my chest. I can barely breathe.

I release her skirt from my grip.

"Are… um… are y-you alright?" I ask her again, my voice slightly louder.

No answer.

Would I _really_ take advantage of a clearly drunk girl?

She would make good art. I studied her more closely, seeing her curves, hoop earrings, and tousled hair. "Um… um… are you… you okay?" I ask once more, praying she wouldn't answer.

She doesn't answer. I run my hand down her leg, tracing it back up to her skirt.

A few tugs, and it would be off. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I set down my briefcase onto the floor and open it, finding my notepad.

_I can touch her!_

_I really can!_

I felt glee rushing through me, as I twisted her arms and legs to the right position for my drawing. Eventually, she was lying in the right position, and I was free to draw her.

Starting with her head, she slowly came to life in an animated version of herself, her eyes slightly more rounded, hair more glossy, and of course her arms slender and long.

Her waist thick, curves evident, and her short skirt that barely covered her… _lady bits_. It was an amazing drawing, when I came to the end of it.

I looked at her once more, and before I could stop myself, I slowly approached her, tapping her once more.

"Hello…?"

She blinks, glancing at me. My notepad sat in the corner, with the drawing intact.

"Ugh…" She groans.

"I got the most splittin' 'eadache," she touches her head gently, yet winces at this, "you my fairy godmother or somethin'?"

I swivel my eyes around, the area, but there's nobody here. Perhaps I could nurse her, take her home.

"Uh… um… uh… Y-Yes. Do… do you want to come to mine?"

She groans. "Ugh. Got anythin' to make me feel better?"  
>"Sure. I've… I've got water."<p>

I carefully pick her up from the floor, struggling to juggle my briefcase in another hand.

"D'you… d'you need to vomit?"

"Nah, I'm alright, love."

She had fallen over, I was sure of it. I consider calling 999.

Yes, I think I would.

After we staggered to my car, I had taken extra care to strap her in, and keep her head up to prevent her from smashing her head onto the airbag's spot.

_Is she okay?_

"Um… I don't know your name, but are you… are you alright?"  
>"Yeah, I'm fine. Name's Kelly." She says, but her words are slurred.<p>

**xxx**

She sat on my sofa, barely able to keep herself upright. I walk back into the room, carrying a coke in one hand.

"What's… what's that?" She asks.

"Foreign type of vodka." I respond, having rehearsed this as I was getting the soft drink.

Without any question, she takes it out of my hand. But of course, she struggles to open it.

"D-don't hurt yourself." I say, keeping my voice steady as I reach for it, cracking it open.

"Thanks. You're a decent bloke, y'know, most of 'em would've felt me up then done a runner."

I nod at her. "Don't mention it."

We sit in silence for the next few minutes, until I open my briefcase and look at the picture I'd drawn once more.

She's not breathing. I'm sure of it. I focus on her chest, but there are only… 6 breaths per minute.

_No, no, no no!_

For only a few seconds, I froze, but instantly decided what to do. My phone was in my briefcase, that I was hitting, attempting to open.

By the time I took my phone out, she was breathing. "K-Kelly?" I ask, reaching over to prod her with a small amount of force.

Kelly reacted, and sat up, blinking at me, her eyes glazed over.

"Whatsit?"

"You weren't breathing… properly." I say, anxiously, beginning to tap 999 into my phone.

"Nah, I tell you, I'm fine. Just sleepy."

Sleepy. Kelly's eyes flicker shut, and I observe her breathing once more.

_17 breaths per minute. The average is 12-20. She's fine._

I couldn't just leave her alone, by herself. She was obviously drunk. I quickly slip out of the room, taking a blanket from the cupboard.

Draping it over her, I gently push her to the side of the sofa, and prop her up, onto her side.

She's still breathing. I'm sure of it.

Slowly, I bent downwards, until our lips were level. But I didn't dare try, instead, settling for her forehead.

My lips gently pressed them, but I knew she wouldn't feel it – she was out like a light.

"Goodnight, Kelly." I say, quietly.

Sitting on the sofa, I consider getting my camera.

Instead, I just sit down and watch her sleep, like her own little guardian angel.

**Fin~**

**A/N: PM me for requests.**


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